


Stargazers

by uhnonniemiss



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Basically Hermann is v sad, Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2132373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhnonniemiss/pseuds/uhnonniemiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt died over a year ago, but Hermann still visits from time to time</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stargazers

**Author's Note:**

> "Sternchen" is German for "little star", an endearment that Newt insisted on and that Hermann actually took to. Hermann is not calling Newt "asterisk".
> 
> Basically I saw this one prompt on tumblr and had to write it. I'm sorry, I think.

There was a certain kind of stillness to the landscape, a certain kind of quiet that only came in the dead of winter. Hermann's cane crunched against the ground as he walked, the noise muffled by the layer of glittering snow that had fallen overnight. The sun had only just crept over the horizon, leaving the world cold and Hermann's breath coming in smoky clouds in the air.

"Of course you would choose the most difficult area to get to, you bastard," Hermann called out as he finally reached the tree, leaning against it to catch his breath. " _Good view of the lake_ my arse, you just want me to climb that hill every time I want to see you." Putting his weight back on his cane- he'd be leaning more heavily on it for the past few months- he leaned down, brushing snow off the rock in front of him. The letters were still unchanged, and Hermann wondered how many months, how many years it would be until they wore away.

_Newt Geiszler._

_January 19_ _th_ _1990- March 31_ _st_ _2038_

_I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night._

"And, yes, I know, I don't have to come here," Hermann continued, rolling his eyes. "And that you'd call me a sentimental idiot for coming and standing here, talking to you, when I don't even know if you can- if this is-" The wind suddenly got a couple of degrees colder, and Hermann sighed as it blew around him. "No, I know you wouldn't have said that. You would have picked me up off the ground and held me and let me carry on like the blithering imbecile I am. I know." He hung his head. "I know."

The wind dropped, and a smile drifted across Hermann's face. "Happy birthday, _sternchen_."

The ground was cold and damp, but Hermann slowly lowered himself down, until he was sitting in front of the grave with his leg stretched out in front of him. "I brought flowers," he remembered, picking the bouquet up from beside him. "Flowers are customary, I believe. Lilies are horribly clichéd, but at least these are a little more interesting." He leaned forward, setting them at the foot of the grave. "Some of them are Day lilies- they signify enthusiasm, apparently, if you hold with the circles who attribute such things." Newt would have snorted at that, if he'd been there. Then again, if Newt had been there, things would have been very different. "And some of them are Stargazers. I think it's fairly obvious why I chose those, without waxing lyrical about the constellations."

The flowers were lurid orange and pink and ridiculous. Newt would have loved them, Hermann thought, right before he realised how sick he was of the conditional tense.

"I'm sure this is the last part of today Vanessa will allow me to spend alone, so I intend to make the most of it," Hermann said, a little more humour in his voice. "She's insufferable, really, but it helps sometimes. Everyone helps. Tendo calls quite often, even though this is hard for him as well. And Vanessa and her wife keep me going. You would have adored their daughter, you know," he added, smiling. "I know I keep telling you how wonderful she is, little Isabella, but I can imagine you with her." He stopped for a moment, clearing his throat. "You know she wants to be a scientist? Just like her uncle Hermann and her uncle Newt that she hears so much about. You wouldn't believe the amount of times she's had to 'save the world' from their cat, it's a scourge to humanity." His hand drifts to his wedding ring, playing with it absently. "I sometimes wonder if we- but it's useless, thinking like that. Everything is useless."

His voice began to shake ever so slightly, and Hermann looked at the sky, eyes rimmed red. "It's difficult, Newton. Today especially, but always. I wake up every morning, and the bed is empty, and every day I have to _remember_." He stopped again, voice rough. "But then, I'm afraid of what it means, if it gets easier. What if one day it stops hurting, where does that leave me? I'm sorry," he said, rubbing his face. "I'm sorry. I'm getting better, I truly am, everyone around me helps a great deal. But… I miss you, Newt. I miss you a lot."

He stood up, feet sliding a little on the icy ground. "I think that's what I came to say, more than anything. That I'm going to be alright, and that I miss you, and that I love you, _sternchen_. Very much."

That was all he could say anymore, really. He'd already cried at the funeral, already promised that Newt would never be forgotten. Then again, Newt had known that. Had known it for a long time.

"I'll talk to you soon," Hermann said quietly to the stone, turning to make his way back down the hill. Above him, a tree branch snapped sharply, sending a pile of snow straight down onto Hermann's head.

" _Oh, for god's sake, Newton,"_ he spluttered, before freezing, realising what he was saying. "Hm." He brushed snow out of his hair, eyes glittering as he stared up at the branches. "You got me again, Newton," he murmured, his face open where once it would have been scowling. "You got me."

There was a certain kind of stillness to the landscape, a certain kind of quiet that only came in the dead of winter. As Hermann walked away from the grave, he knew that he could find the same peace. Not yet, but… some day.

Hermann smiled, and around him, the wind blew on.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I wasn't going to write Newmann anymore lol
> 
> The quote on Newt's grave is a line from Sarah Williams's poem "The Old Astronomer", which is Hermann's favourite poem (and incidentally my own)
> 
> The queer Vanessa thing is a headcanon of mine which I talk about on my tumblr a lot (sneaky self promo I'm scandalouscactus you should follow me maybe cool)
> 
> I'm still a very new writer to the fandom so any comments or kudos you leave are really appreciated xxx thank you for reading ^_^


End file.
